Tony scratched his neck, his high visibility vest making him itchy again. He took off his bright yellow hardhat, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Now cradling his hardhat under one arm, and a clipboard in his hand, he sidled over to the rich prick. “Look, Enrique, I really need you to sign the…” He paused for a rattling rumble, as a dump truck disgorged another load of printer cartridges onto the front lawn. “…pink copy of the bill of lading. It confirms the delivery was made, and my drivers can get paid.”

Enrique sputtered, fuming. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?“ He said, gesturing at the small hill nearly obscuring his mansion.

“Well…” Tony grunted. “ You better hope that some of these loads have magenta, otherwise these piles of cyan and yellow are totally useless.“

Bisexual doors, they swing both ways. Also, awkward as fuck in conversation.

Can you distract her until after Christmas? My family would really appreciate it.

There’s actually a really effective treatment for this condition! I mean, I don’t know what it is, but my mom figured it out. I’ll have to ask her about it.